He realized that she was serious, gave a mock salute and went into the house. Outside came the sound of sirens. ‘The cavalry,’ Vera said.

Joe couldn’t face standing here for much longer, watching Vera tear herself apart with guilt, but bottling it all up inside. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Knock on some doors, Joe. Start in the flats and then move down the street. Dee would have been an object of interest. There might even have been a campaign to get her shifted. She was hardly a model tenant. Let’s hope there’s a busybody somewhere who’s made a note of the comings and goings. I’ve sent Hol back to the station to coordinate calls from the public.’ When he paused she continued angrily. ‘If it’s not beneath your dignity as a sergeant, sometime today would be good.’

He put up his hands, a gesture of surrender, and walked away. When she called him back he thought she was going to apologize for being so sharp. But she handed him a greasy carrier bag. ‘Get rid of these, will you? Fish and chips. They’ll be cold by now.’

He started at the ground floor and worked up. Two flats on each floor, six lots of tenants. Mid-afternoon and the week before Christmas he expected most people to be out, but he was 50 per cent lucky. The first door he knocked on had a handrail outside and a ramp to the front step. A tiny elderly woman with a walking frame opened the door. She had shining white hair permed into tight curls. He showed his warrant card.

She stepped aside and let him in, sat him in front of the gas fire and chatted while she made tea. She couldn’t have been happier to see him if he’d been Santa. ‘It gets a bit lonely,’ she said. No self-pity. ‘Though I get out to the over-sixties on Thursdays, and that’s always a laugh. Our Christmas party tomorrow.’

‘I’m here to ask some questions.’ He sat with the tea and a plate balanced awkwardly on the arm of the chair. She’d insisted on him getting the Battenberg out of the cake tin.

‘About that woman who was killed on the Metro?’ She poked her head forward, eager for information. ‘The one with the foreign name. I remember her when she was a lass. Always a bit full of herself and stirring up the lads. Ricky Butt had his eye on her at one time, and Val threatened to bar her from the Coble.’

‘Ricky Butt?’ The woman obviously wanted to chat and she reminded Joe of his nan.